"You didn’t see me, I was falling apart. I was a television version of a person with a broken heart."
| ~ The National (via laurenriveninetyeight)|
The left hemisphere of my brain still loves you.
The right side wishes it didn’t.
My grandmother collected my grandfather’s liver spots
like pepper flakes until the day he died-
even now I’m reminded of how we collect things
we already know will destroy us
because they feel good in our…
There are bullets embedded in my mouth that I have never fired.
All the words I ever meant to say but didn’t,
all the silences that played Russian Roulette with my tongue.
If I could go back and tell you anything, it would be this:
thousands of snowflakes together are responsible
"Stop. You can’t love me because you’re lonely, or because I am the only one who doesn’t piss you off. I want to piss you off, I want to get on your fucking nerves. I don’t want the responsibility of always being your rock. I will try, but I’m a mess, too. I lie, I sleep too much and I don’t like children under the age of 6, really. I don’t even know if I want kids because I’m selfish, and mothers can’t be selfish once they decide to carry another life.
| ~ before you fall in love with me | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)|
Stop being so desperate for love. Like a broken bone, you have to let this want, this need, shift around inside you until it finds the right position to rest and mends itself.
But don’t clip its wings immediately. Let it bleed itself out gradually, slowly, so you can know what it feels like to be…
The first time love left, all the sterling silverware in the house tarnished
in a split second and I stayed in bed for two weeks straight.
The landlord eventually stopped calling to collect the overdue rent
and started calling to ask if I was alive instead.
But love’s departure left me a…
There should be constellations named after the way
your body felt when it slid home into mine.
A great paleontologist once said that insects pressed in amber
are nature’s love letters preserved
like the string of fingerprints you left all over my skin,
a dusting so light a DNA sweep would…
"Whatever I am, you did it."
| ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Offshore Pirate (via naomilku)|
As most couples do, we split apart, halved and quartered ourselves
into smithereens and mosaics of something
that was less like love, and more like salt.
We were thirsty for it, in the beginning.
Skin on skin, finding our ways into each other
like pit into the peach, like a knife drives home…
"we split apart, halved and quartered ourselves into smithereens and mosaics of something that was less like love, and more like salt."
| ~ Writingsforwinter (via wildebeastcupcake)|
If we move in together, my heart is still yours,
but that doesn’t mean all my belongings have to be.
Privacy is the beetle’s husk, the moon’s rind, a tulip’s pollen,
my own skin. Our two halves of a home may touch and coalesce,
but when I need my space, let me have it,
stars, black holes,…